Alterations
by amberdowny
Summary: A few things that probably never happened. At some point I will write three longer fics for each bit, but for now...you get snippets of three universes.


Title: Alterations

Author: SP

Rating: M

Pairing: Curt/Brian mostly.

Disclaimer: Todd Haynes. Not me. sigh

Summary: A few things that (probably) never happened. At some point I will write three longer fics for each bit, but for now...you get snippets of three universes.

A/N: It could be called AU. It could be called fucking with canon. Whatever it is, I've done it.

_Rock and roll is a prostitute_

Brian remembered this well. If someone had something he wanted, he offered whatever they wanted and he got it. A pocket watch, a pin…and now, money.

Brian felt vaguely dirty for doing this, but it wasn't really _that_ much different from the massive orgies that used to occur on an almost nightly basis. It was still sex with anyone even marginally willing. And Brian had _always_ done that…just not for money.

There were other things he _could _be doing, rather than this, but Brian had a nice body and a name that everyone still recognized, and he was going to use them. Fallen from grace as he was, people would still gloat in secret, "Ha, I shagged Brian Slade!" (or "Brian Slade shagged me!" depending on gender and/or personal likes).

There had also been a few people who had been extreme fans who paid for sex just to hurt him, punish him for lying to them all. Brian didn't mind so much, because he could handle a day or two of soreness as long as there was money gained.

Brian never had sex because he wanted to; it was always for the money. Besides, there was only one person he really _wanted _to fuck now, and there was no chance of it ever happening again. Curt hated him too. Everyone he ever even looked at hated him for something eventually. It was just in Brian's nature to be an utter bastard sometimes, and likewise in his nature never to apologize, even when he knew he was in the wrong.

_If you're gonna claim that you're gay, you're gonna have to make love in gay style_

Mandy always assumed that the first time Brian and Curt had ever shagged was the night after their public kiss. She also assumed that that was the first time they'd kissed.

One of her assumptions was right, but the other was not.

The first time Brian and Curt kissed _was_ during that press conference. The first time they shagged, however, was earlier than that.

The first time they shagged was the night after Curt declared that Brian could be his main man. The second was when Mandy assumed it was the first.

Those two nights couldn't have been more different. The first night was rough, greedy, full of biting and scratching and bruising. The second night was gentle, caring, full of kissing and caressing and feeling. The first night, Brian took Curt hard, ignoring Curt's sharp hisses of pain. The second night, Curt carefully slid inside of Brian, constantly asking if he was all right. The first night was about lust. The second night was about love. The first night was about Brian and Curt. The second night was too.

"_I knew I should create a sensation," gasped the rocket. And he went out_

The intro to _The Ballad of Maxwell Demon_ was playing, feathers were falling and hundreds of fans were screaming. The false assassin was waiting in the wings for the signal. The radio-controlled device was ready to go off and make a realistic-looking bullet hole in his abdomen. Everything was set. Maxwell was in his element.

The intro to _The Ballad of Maxwell Demon_ was playing, feathers were falling and hundreds of fans were screaming. The assassin was waiting in the wings for the signal. Everything was set. Brian was tense, taut as a bowstring.

Maxwell/Brian walked to center stage, microphone in hand, looked to the left, then looked out at the crowd.

Two simultaneous gunshots rang out, and the crowd's screams became screams of horror. Maxwell/Brian was jerked backward and fell flat onto the stage. Real blood blossomed from his chest, while fake blood blossomed from his abdomen.

The Venus in Furs looked at the body in front of them, horrified. There wasn't supposed to be a _real_ assassin, with _real_ bullets and _real_ blood. It had all gone horribly, horribly wrong.


End file.
